


Suffer My Loss

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, But nothing extremely graphic, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Langst, Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Revenge, Tongue Cutting, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: After a case of wrong place, wrong time, Lance falls into Sendak’s hands. Sendak, who is somehow still alive and more than happy take this opportunity of revenge for all it is worth against the boy who instigated his downfall.“Tell me, boy,” Sendak dragged Lance up by his hair, twisting it cruelly, “do you have even an idea of my suffering?”“Starting to,” Lance gasped.





	Suffer My Loss

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Set during season four
> 
>  **Warning notes:** Violence and whump, some blood.

"Ouch, okay, easy with the spear dude, I’m moving.” Lance winced as rather than backing off the spear seemed to get even closer to his back and he hurried to keep pace with the small herd of rabbit-like aliens that had captured him.

He’d made a quick stop on what he thought was an uninhabited planet following a quick solo supply run because he, being the amazing person he was, had finished up his errands with vargas (and GAC) to spare and when said planet had read signs of water as he passed over he couldn’t not stop.

Red had balked a bit, sending feelings of _urgency_ and _mission_ but Lance had patted her console, told her she needed to loosen up a bit and have some fun. It was another stark reminder of how different the Red Lion was from the Blue Lion and he had been unable to quell the pang of loss. Red had picked up on it and with a put upon sigh disguising actual concern (and Lance felt it, so he knew it was genuine) she had allowed him to detour to the planet.

She had no desire to frolic in the water but Lance had wasted no time, after quickly testing it with the water safety strips Pidge had designed, of course, and had stripped off his clothes minus his boxer shorts and dove right into the huge lake.

The water had been _heavenly._ A perfect mixture of chill and sun and near crystal clear waves. He’d called for Red to join him and received a very firm negative, the Lion of fire having no desire to go willingly near anything wet and had actually flown to land on a large outcropping around the bend and as far away from the water as she could get while still remaining within “speaking” distance of him. A true cat, Lance had smirked.

It had been too long since he’d actually been able to swim (the Altean farce of a pool did not count) and so Lance spent as long as he could scouring the bottom of the lake before his lungs protested that despite his wishes he was not part fish and needed actual air. He’d surfaced…

And found himself on the wrong end of a spear wielded by a creature as tall as him but with near rabbit-like features and long ears tied back as though a ponytail and with a whole contingent of backup also wielding spears. He’d tried for a smile and an introduction – apparently the planet was inhabited – but whatever translation abilities bonding with the Lions had granted the humans, it did not extend to this alien race, who spoke in a series of chitters and snuffles.

Still, Lance tried to keep his tone friendly even as he was surrounded by spears, because technically he was a stranger to them and he couldn’t fault them for being wary.

They didn’t seem to like that approach and with some unspoken signal he’d been converged upon, the rabbits moving easily through the water, and within the minute he’d been surrounded and prodded to standing with the encouragement of the spears. They left him unrestrained though and merely ushered him to the shore and Lance had done as best he could not to provoke them as those spears could _definitely_ him hurt if aliens went that route.

Red had felt his light distress at the thought of being skewered and he’d sensed her shift but Red’s version of helping was generally to blow stuff up. Despite the fact he was apparently captured Lance didn’t feel particularly endangered – the aliens, despite surrounding him with the spears, had not been violent. They seemed almost nervous to him, twitching constantly, although maybe that was just a rabbit thing. But he didn’t want them to be hurt and he’d channeled that thought to his Lion.

She had snorted, confusion mixed with frustration to _do_ something, as he was the most passive Paladin she had ever had. Lance couldn’t help it though; he preferred to avoid a fight when he could. And, once the rabbits took him to their leader he was certain they would realize he wasn’t a threat and everything could be smoothed over.

He’d instructed her to put up her particle barrier and she had grudgingly complied. Just a varga he’d called over his shoulder to her. If she didn’t hear or see him by then she was welcome to come to his rescue. He really didn’t think it was going to be anything that serious though and had sent a wave of calm reassurance.

They were entering a town now, just a few minutes away from the lake, and Lance cast his eyes curiously about the dwellings that had been burrowed into large mounds. Just like rabbits, he grinned. There were bits and bobs of decorations across the doors and coverings and Lance felt his shoulders relaxing. This felt a bit like the Arusian camp; primitive but homely. He was going to be fine.

The rounded the corner of a mass of burrows and Lance froze, a strangled sounding gasp torn from his throat as he zeroed in on a wooden structure that looked to have been hastily erected .

Maybe… maybe not so fine.

For hanging from that tall structure was a body, most likely from the alien rabbit species, although it was hard to tell as the flesh and fur had wrinkled and rotted, a sheen of bone visible in some places where the skin had worn away and clothes fluttered about in rags.

It had been there for a while. A long, long while.

The aliens about him had grown rigid too and hurried Lance past the grisly sight, keeping their heads bowed and a new tremble to their limbs, one spear slicing a thin line on Lance’s arm although he honestly thought it was an accident.

His stomach clenched. This was not good.

They ushered him towards what appeared to be their town center, a raised dais at the back of it and a throne seated there. And seated in the throne…

“You!” gasped out Lance, the word echoed by the lounging figure, clearly just as surprised to see Lance as he was to see him.

Sendak was supposed to be dead, after all, having been ejected from the castle and with only a limited air supply. He _should_ have been long gone, a distant, awful memory.

Yet here he was, in all his fuzzy, purple glory and other than the missing prosthetic arm looking none the worse for the wear. He was clothed in the same tan colored clothing the rabbits wore, although his chest was bare save for the layers upon layers of necklaces that matched the circlet perched on his head and balanced by his ears.

“Well, well,” Sendak stood up with a feline grace, sharp smile widening and dismissing the chittering rabbit that had been at his side. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?”

“If pleasant suddenly means absolutely horrible then yes,” Lance bit out, hating when Sendak merely chuckled. He tried to take a step backwards but the aliens had closed ranks about him and the sharp spears were pressing in against his back, chest and a particularly dangerous one at his neck. He swallowed thickly as he felt it press in, a thin rivulet of blood running down.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

He sent out his senses to Red, too far for her to hear him speak but still within distance of where she should be able to pick up his distress. He felt the barest rumble in the back of his mind, worry and anger and fear all rolled into one.

And then it disappeared like a switch had been flipped off. Lance tried to quell the panic that rose up at the sudden complete absence of Red’s presence. She wouldn’t leave him, right? She had to be getting help. That was it. She was off getting the others because as powerful and amazing as she was, if Red came into a firefight right now she’d as surely hurt him as the enemy and the villagers, who Lance really didn’t think were doing this of their own choice.

At least he hoped so.

He tried to shift again, raise his arms up in probably the worst self-defense pose there was, to do _something_ other than stand there like a statue, but the spears were very good motivators to continue to do just that.

“You are unrestrained,” Sendak observed, prowling down the steps without a hurry in the world. “Not a mistake I shall be repeating.” He made a sort of chattering noise that would have been really funny in his deep tones had it not prompted the rabbit aliens to press in even closer, multiple blades now at his neck to where when Lance swallowed a new line of blood flowed down. The alien who had caused the injury trembled and Lance would have to have been blind to miss the naked fear in its face.

Not just scared. _Terrified._ And he didn’t think it was of him.

“Hold your hands in front of you,” Sendak commanded, “or they’ll run you through.”

“What did you do to them?” Lance asked instead, hands still fisted at his sides.

Sendak was standing just outside the circle of aliens around Lance now and this close his fanged smirk appeared even crueler. “To them? Nothing. To their former leader?” He jerked his head in the direction of the scaffolding they had passed where the body hung. “ _I_ am their leader now and should they cross me they will meet the same fate.”His grin widened. “I wonder what fate has in store for you, boy.”

“That’s Paladin to you, fuzzball,” Lance retorted. “And fate has a butt kicking for you. When my team gets here—”

“Always needing rescued, eh, _boy?”_ Sendak smirked, and Lance hated how the words made his stomach coil. Because he was right. Even now, months and battles and experiences later, he was once again helpless when face to face with Sendak, and he was going to need to be rescued as, he swallowed and felt the spear tip brush his throat, he was in no position to fight back or escape.

His silence must have been enough of an answer because Sendak leered. “That’s what I thought. Hands. Now. Or you won’t be alive when Champion attempts to save you.”

“Pretty sure you’re using “attempt” wrong,” Lance said, but the comeback was lacking in strength, doubled by the fact he raised his hands out in front of him, separated by the width of his chest.

“Together,” came the order.

Lance glowered and complied.

One of the rabbits was there then with a skein of coarse rope and none too gently tied his wrists together. The excess rope was threaded around and Lance’s eyes widened as the length was handed with a low bow to Sendak.

He was on a quiznaking lead.

“Come here,” Sendak yanked on the rope and Lance was pulled stumbling forward by his bound hands, the rabbits fortunately having raised their spears or he’d have just gutted himself. He managed to find his feet and braced them so he came to a stop a few feet from the Galran, leveling a heated glare.

“I said _here,”_ and Sendak jerked him forward, uprooting Lance with brute strength and he barely managed to splay his hands out before he crashed into the Galran. A clawed hand descended painfully on his shoulder, digging in and sending new warm trails of blood down his back and chest.  Lance tried not to wince.

After a moment of growing increasingly awkward silence, Lance raised an eyebrow, tilting his head back to look at the Galran’s face, whose eyes, yellow and cybernetic, were fixed on Lance with an expression Lance couldn’t quite place.

Rather than giving into the fullbody shiver the way his body was telling him it should, Lance instead decided to use the one weapon he had left in his arsenal to distract Sendak and then, somehow, escape. Although where he was going he wasn’t quite sure yet as Red was (definitely, hopefully) getting help, but maybe if he could disable Sendak the rabbits would revolt too and they could all team up on him.

Lance cleared his throat. One round of annoying rambling that he’d near perfected coming up.

“So, uh, we just going to stand here till Shiro gets here? Gotta tell you fuzzball, I know you’re really excited to get your ass handed to you but it’s going to be a while. A _long_ while. In fact, he might not even show up—”

“He will come,” Sendak interrupted, confident. “The” – and he said a word that came out a near chirp, the alien species not translating even here – “relayed that some type of vessel took off, no doubt one of your Voltron Lions.” Lance tried to keep his face straight but Sendak’s smile widened in knowing. “And when he does,” his hand tightened on Lance’s shoulder, “he will _die.”_

Lance shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with the new burst of pain as the claws dug in and he pressed back against Sendak’s bulk unsuccessfully, fingers tangling in one of the many necklaces. Shiro was going to be fine. Sendak was missing his prosthetic, the only thing really scary about him his size and sharp claws.

Except…

Except just like last time Lance was once more the hostage. Shiro had willingly surrendered last time when Lance’s life had been endangered and Lance was afraid of such an outcome again. Because Sendak didn’t want submission.

He wanted Shiro dead.

“But do not let me keep you from the fun. After all,” Sendak smirked down, “I must thank you personally for your role in my capture.”

Lance’s stomach twisted even as he forced a smile to his face. “Aw, geeze, you don’t have to do that.”

White fangs gleamed. “It is my pleasure.”

His hand shifted ever so as though to release Lance from his grasp and Lance _moved._ His hands, wrapped fully now in several of the necklaces, yanked forward with all his strength, digging cords and beads into the back of Sendak’s thick neck.

The Galran made a slight choking noise at the pressure and Lance didn’t waste the momentary distraction. Pivoting, he rammed his shoulder where it met Sendak’s chest and sent him slightly stumbling.

Lance turned…

Raised his leg to deliver the strongest kick of his life to knock Sendak back further…

And was forcibly jerked forwards by his bound hands and the length of rope that Sendak had wrapped about his wrist and clutched in his palm.

Lance let out a yelp as the power behind the motion sent him, already balancing on one leg, sprawling to the ground, rough rock burning against his exposed skin.

A clawed foot connected with a sickening crack a moment later against his ribs and Lance _screamed_ as he felt something inside him break. He’d have been sent rolling across the ground from the strength of the kick except for the tether that jolted his arms nearly out of his sockets and halted his momentum.

Groaning, Lance tried to get his bound hands beneath him, pull himself to his knees, but Sendak had already stalked forward and his foot connected under Lance’s stomach and kicked him up only to slam him back to the ground with his other foot.

Lance tasted blood.

Bit through his tongue, he realized, gasping weakly and spitting out a string of ropy red saliva.

Claws descended into his hair and scalp and dragged him up before he could even consider trying to move, bringing him face to face with glowing yellow and red eyes. “I told you,” Sendak grinned. “It is my pleasure.”

“Qu-quiznack you,” Lance spat out. He followed that by actually spitting, glob landing on Sendak’s nose. Probably not the best idea (a really bad one, actually, in hindsight) but it had felt right. He grinned a bloodied smile.

Sendak responded by smashing his face into the ground.

“I will enjoy this,” Sendak dragged his head against rock, crimson streaks left behind as Lance’s forehead and cheek were rubbed raw. “For every minute I have suffered, I will return to you tenfold.”

“J-just ten?” Lance gasped as Sendak lifted him by his hair again, even as his mind was screaming at him to shut up. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t just lie here silently. He had to _fight,_ even if it was only with words.

“Tell me, boy,” Sendak dragged him to kneeling and then past that, Lance groaning as he was lifted fully into the air by his scalp and held in front of Sendak like a disobedient puppy, “do you have even an idea of my suffering?”

“Starting to,” Lance managed, weakly swinging his legs out falling pathetically short of making contact as Sendak held him at arm length from his body and, as Lance had already noted, Sendak was _huge._

“Because of you,” he shook Lance like a ragdoll and reflexive tears were pulled from his eyes as his hair was further twisted, “and the other Paladins I have lost _everything.”_

And maybe had Sendak not been a clearly homicidal, violence-loving brute Lance might have felt a tiny bit bad for him. But as the facts stood Sendak was your typical Galran raised under the Empire’s shadow and as cruel as they came. 

And Lance’s mouth did love to move without his permission, especially in times of high stress.

 “Sucks to be you.”

Sendak let out a guttural roar and Lance found himself being thrown back to the ground, a scream torn from his lips as definitely broken ribs took the brunt of the fall. His vision whited out for all of a moment as his head took the other hit, ears ringing.

But Sendak was far from done and once more a clawed foot connected with Lance’s torso before he’d managed to regain any semblance of breath and he was sent skittering across the ground.

The rabbit aliens were clustered a few yards away from where he’d landed, eyes wide with fear and huddled together at the show of violence. If they would just fight with him Lance knew they could overpower Sendak. He knew it. They just had to find the courage to fight.

“Please,” he choked out, spitting out more blood, trying to appeal to them even though they couldn’t understand the meaning of the word. “Pl—”

He cut off with a cry as Sendak pulled on the rope and he was dragged back to the Galran like a fish on a line. 

“What shall it be now?” Sendak growled, looming over Lance as he lie there panting on his back, black spots dancing in his vision as his ribs grated alarmingly against one another. “Another beating? Stabbing? Perhaps a whipping?” His yellow eye seemed to gleam at the last suggestion.

“Tea?” Lance put forth. “Sa-sandwiches?”

A heavy foot settled itself across his throat and Lance gagged as it pushed down.

“I tire of your babble.”

“T-tire of y-you,” Lance gurgled.

Sendak’s lips pulled back into a sharp grin. “Soon you will no longer tire of anything, boy. But until Champion gets here I think I shall cure myself of your incessant tongue.”

Lance paled.

He didn’t mean…

Lance renewed his struggles for all the good they were, stopping nearly immediately as the foot pressed even harder into his neck and the black spots became a near haze and for a moment the only sound he could hear was his blood pounding in his head and the dull sound of Sendak’s near chirps in the alien language.

A moment passed and the pressure loosened. Lance sucked in a greedy inhale but his relief was short lived as he felt hands – paws? --  grabbing at his shoulders and he was pulled into a kneeling position, chest screaming at the angle but no air left for him to scream.

Sendak crouched in front of him and Lance’s bleary eyes took in the sheen of a knife that was held aloft in the air between their faces.

Holy quiznak.

He was actually going to do it.

“I would say this won’t hurt, but that would defeat the purpose,” Sendak chuckled.

Furred digits tugged at the corners of Lance’s mouth and he threw his head side to side until a sharp strike to the back left him sagging in the rabbits’ grip. In the moment of stillness they secured his head, large paws on either side of his face, and more tugging his mouth back open even as Lance gnashed his teeth.

His movements came to a grinding halt as the sharp bite of metal descended on the flat of his tongue.

A high, weak whine came from him then as Sendak shifted the blade inside his mouth, trailing it along the roof of his mouth.

What did he do?

What did he _do?_

“Ah ah,” Sendak chided as Lance attempted to jerk his head back. “Hold still, boy, or your tongue won’t be the only thing being cut.” He grinned. “Not yet at least.”

Lance could feel his heart thudding, his breaths too loud as the knife came to rest back down and the tip angled towards the back of his throat.

“Shall it be one cut or several?” Sendak mused. “I’ll give you the option, boy. Would you like it removed in chunks or one large piece. Both appeal to me.”

Lance moaned, the sound near swallowed up by the paws forcing his mouth open.

“In pieces it is,” Sendak nodded. “Let’s begin.”

Lance choked as he felt the blade press down.

And then he screamed, an inhuman sound muffled as it was, as it sliced into his flesh. The bitter taste of copper flooded  his mouth and he screamed louder as Sendak dragged the blade along the length of it not quite severing his tongue but digging in deep.

Lance could feel his eyes rolling back in his head and the black spots came back with a vengeance.

Above that though, above the pain and horror, he felt something else.

Unbridled anger and a roaring passion and mixed in there the sharp tang of fear.

Red.

Red was back.

There was a literal roaring sound then of both Lions and thrusters and the blade was pulled from his mouth, crimson spilling over his lips, and then pressed against his throat instead and he was hauled to standing, back pressed uncomfortably against Sendak’s chest.

Lance opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – and the world spun in a dizzying circle for a moment, his legs trembling beneath him and only the knife at his throat keeping him from falling over. He kept his lips firmly sealed as though that could contain the wound, but to his horror he could feel blood beginning to dribble out and he coughed against it, sending the knife on his throat skittering a thin line.

When he blinked again as the coughing subsided for the moment, it was to see the Red, Blue and Black Lions descending with earth-shaking thumps, flattening several burrows beneath their weight. Shiro and Allura hurried out of their respective Lions a moment later.

Anger was clear across Shiro’s face, normally warm charcoal eyes snapping with a dark fire, while Allura’s lips were pressed together firmly, glancing between Lance’s face and then up towards Sendak’s.

Lance wished he could say something to reassure her but upon opening his mouth again only more blood dribbled out and his tongue _ached_ and Allura’s eyes widened with horror and then narrowed with a promised vengeance.

“Champion!” called out Sendak, sounding far too at ease.

“You’re alive,” Shiro answered, voice an odd mixture of flatness and hate. His prosthetic sparked purple. “I’ll be fixing that.”

Lance shivered in Sendak’s grip at the sheer ice in Shiro’s tone, but Sendak just laughed. “Oh? And how do you propose doing that when I once again have this boy,” the knife dug into his throat and Lance let out a low whimper, “as my hostage.” He laughed again. “It appears to be his natural talent, wouldn’t you say?”

“I say you talk too much.”

And Shiro charged.

Lance’s eyes widened at the reckless move and based on the sudden stiffening of Sendak behind him he too had not anticipated such a course of action. The knife lifted up ever so in confusion as the Galran seemed to be debating to finish the job or defend against the incoming raging Black Paladin.

Allura didn’t give him the chance for the first.

Her whip flew straight and true and wrapped with a vice-like grip about Sendak’s arm and she _pulled,_ her own strength nothing to be scoffed at and the knife was yanked free of Lance’s throat with a shout from the Galran behind him.

Lance had a moment of vindictive glee that the Galran got to feel what it was like to be yanked around by just an arm before Shiro was there, glowing arm smashing in an uppercut on Sendak’s chin and punching him upwards and Lance instinctively dropped down, hitting the ground with a dull thump.

Sendak crashed back down, roaring, and swung out with his knife at Shiro, who ducked it with ease and launched a flurry of punches against the larger male.

All of the rabbit aliens scattered then, there one moment and gone the next, dropped spears left in their wake. Lance let out a raspy, relieved breath. They hadn’t fought against Sendak but they weren’t going to fight the Paladins. It was as good as he could ask for.

 “Lance!” Allura was next to him then, her slender hands moving to his face as behind them Shiro continued a near merciless beat down on Sendak.

“’ura,” he gurgled, wincing as his tongue scraped on his teeth.

“Don’t talk,” she commanded as she moved to cut the ropes holding his hands bound. He nodded. He could do that.

A much louder thump than the once Lance had made echoed a moment later and both turned to see Shiro standing above the limp form of Sendak, eyes still sparking. They softened somewhat as they turned to look at Lance. “You all right?”

Lance nodded even as Allura said, “He requires a pod immediately. Coran?” The advisor must have said something into her communications because Allura nodded. “One is being prepped as we speak. We should hurry.”

“’dak?” Lance tried to say, looking at the downed Galran in what had to be the most anticlimactic fight either.

“Useless without his arm,” Shiro scowled, “and useless to anything Lotor would have planned. Still,” he toed the form. “Maybe the Blades will find some purpose for him.”

So not dead then. Lance didn’t know why such a thought relieved him so, but, as he caught the flickering shadows on Shiro’s face, he realized he did. 

“Can you walk?” Allura asked him, recapturing his attention and Lance nodded an affirmative. She still helped pull him to his feet and he tried not to cry out as his ribs protested and every bruise he knew was forming flared to life. They’d barely made it a pace before there was a scuffling sound and Allura nearly dropped him as she reached for her bayard.

It was one of the rabbits, holding Lance’s clothes and shoes from where he’d left them by the lake. It chittered at them, nearly reverently placing the bundle on the ground, before it took off with a hop.

“What did it say?” Shiro asked, coming over and dragging Sendak behind him by his remaining arm.

“They are grateful to us for defeating the purple monster,” Allura translated, “and,” her eyes cut to Lance’s, “they are sorry for the harm they caused you.”

Lance mustered up a small, tight-lipped smile and nodded at the apology. Accepted.

“Come, let us hurry you to a pod,” Allura said, starting them forward again towards the Blue Lion and only stopping to pick up his clothing. “Shiro, you have control?”

“Yes.” The word was sharp but strong and Allura did not argue although based on the thin line of her lips she was not entirely satisfied. 

As they made their way slowly towards Blue Lance paused by Red’s foot and gazed up at his Lion. He didn’t dare speak as more blood dropped its way down his throat, but he pushed out his senses to her, sending gratitude and love down their link. She had saved him.

He received the same in turn, along with a pleased purr at the gratitude, followed by a fierce sensation of being scolded. He knew he deserved that one and his acceptance of it calmed her fire.

Allura settled him down in Blue’s familiar cockpit in the corner, offering up a blanket that Lance gratefully took and settled about his lap.

“We will need to discuss what happened later,” Allura said quietly, pausing before she got into the pilot’s chair and Lance hung his head. He’d known that was coming.

“But,” and her hand was there, tipping his bloodied chin up to meet her jeweled gaze, “I am beyond grateful that you are all right. Or, will be,” she amended with a small grin that Lance matched with a tight smile. “Come, let us make haste for home and a cyro-pod.”

And that was the best thing he had heard all day. Lance nodded, gave another tight smile, and then rested his aching head against the cabin, body protesting even that from the abuse Sendak had put it through.

He had indeed suffered, Sendak was right about that. Not just the pain of his wounds, but the fact he had needed rescued, _again._

But unlike the Galran Lance wasn’t going to let fester and grow. He was going to be grateful. Grateful he had a team that looked out for him. Protected him. Loved him.

And next to those iron-clad truths, this suffering mattered not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned fic (3500 to 5000 words) requesting some Lance whump via Sendak as revenge for Lance's role in his Sendak's failure to secure the Castle of the Lions and dedicated to the commisoiner's friend, Anna! Apparently threatening to cut people's tongues out has become a new favorite of mine, so enjoy that and all the other good whump ♥
> 
> Enjoy the fic? **Please leave a comment!** Tell the author what you liked best, a scene, an impression, etc. Comments make an author feel appreciated and we truly thank you for them.
> 
> (Like my works? Keep up with me on [Tumblr, icypantherwrites](http://www.icypantherwrites.tumblr.com))


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